


Linus and Lucy

by LoversAntiquities



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Charlie Brown References, Christmas, Christmas Lights, Fluff, M/M, Snow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-14
Updated: 2014-12-14
Packaged: 2018-03-01 12:49:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2773574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoversAntiquities/pseuds/LoversAntiquities
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Great Christmas Light Fight, or wherein Dean is the king of Christmas lights and Castiel turns his reign upside down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Linus and Lucy

Whoever said small town folk had no personality or inspiration was a damn liar. At least to him it was – Dean had enough motivation during the month of December to light up the whole town, and the number of blinking, multicolored lights to prove it. For majority of the year, he spent his hours at the high school teaching unruly teenagers the joy of using power saws and enough wood glue to stick a chair to the roof. Not that he or anyone had tried, but it was the thought that counted. At least all those years of college never went to waste like he had half expected them to. The kids had fun – _he_ had fun – and that was enough to get him by, even when his paycheck didn't.

January through November was monotonous at best – _December_ was what he was known for. Not for being the son of Smith County’s only auto mechanic or for his mother’s diner in town, no – it was the _lights_. He brought Christmas spirit to town and hammered it into everyone who drove past his three-bedroom colonial home. It started off with a few decorations after he bought the place, just enough to blend in with the other residents and their icicle lights and decorative green-lit trees. The Singer’s had everyone beat, with a blow-up Santa and his reindeer on the roof, all lit up until the automatic timer went off at three in the morning.

It was quaint, for the most part. The next year, he added a train along his front walkway. The next, a giant inflatable snowman holding a snow globe with skating children inside. Blinking icicle lights. Snowflakes in the trees. With every piece, competition followed; a few of his neighbors picked up the pace, his tiny street lighting up for all eyes to see. Even the local paper had something to say, claiming it was the most attention the town had gotten in decades. It didn’t raise the population by no means, but during the season, more and more outsiders came to see the growing displays by the carload.

And then _he_ moved in. Castiel Novak, with his big house next door and haughty nature and annoyingly good looks – Dean wanted to throw a rake at him. Or stick his finger in an industrial outlet – no, that would screw up his hair _more_ than it already was. Who did he think he was, strolling into town and making nice with all the neighbors and even his _mother_? ‘ _He’s such a nice man, Dean_ ,’ she told him the week after his arrival, ‘ _You should respect him more. He’s smart, charming, and friends with your brother. Why don’t you to him_?’

Because his existence was putting a damper on everything he _worked_ for. Any other month of the year, he would have been fine with it. Maybe even brought him one of Mary’s pies as a welcoming present, but no. _December_. His month to shine. His month to be the pride of town, the trendsetter. And even then, he could have played nice. He could have been the overly chatty people person his neighbors knew him to be, could have made an impression on the guy. ‘ _You could be best buddies_ ,’ Sam had teased him, ‘ _But look at you. Pining like a teenager_.’

Sam still hadn’t forgiven him for punching him, after that.

No, it all came down to the _lights_. Some stranger waltzed into his neighborhood and within a week of Thanksgiving ending, his reign ended. Friday morning he went in for his normal day of classes and additional surprise staff meeting, and by the time the sun went down, he was greeted to the sight of decorations – a set of wire-strung deer on the lawn hauling a sleigh at their back, a dozen green trees lining the drive, and a train with two links more than Dean’s own, lighted wheels rolling happily along in the grass.

_Not the train._

He _seethed._ And his neighbors thought Castiel’s place was the greatest thing in existence, chatting him up the night of the debut, hoping to get an explanation as to where he got his inspiration. “I never had a space of my own,” he replied, gesturing to his handiwork. “Growing up, my parents never celebrated Christmas. All my acquaintances from school, their families decorated their lawns in spectacular fashion; I always admired that about this time of year.”

“Y’know, Dean’s been doing this for years,” Jo said, nudging Castiel’s elbow. Dean could have strangled her if he weren’t so occupied with the snowman taking its hat off and putting it back on. “Maybe you can give him a run for his money?”

“I don’t _need_ him to show me anything, Jo,” Dean barked. Castiel was _smirking_ at him, blue eyes alight amongst the twinkling bulbs, almost glowing. “I’m fine on my own.”

“I’m sure you are, Dean,” Castiel said – was he _mocking_ him? “Though, my door’s always open, if you want to chat.”

Oh, like he would take him up on _that_. Give him five seconds and he would have torn down every prop in his yard. Instead he faked a laugh and told him he appreciated the thought and added, “it’s on,” never once taking his eyes off his new opponent.

He should have given Sam more credit, being the brains of the Winchester clan. After sulking around his house for one sleepless night, he figured into his finances what he could afford before he spilled out his plan. He wanted a light show – bigger than Castiel’s, bigger than the state of Kansas had ever seen on a front lawn. He had enough in his savings to pay for the light bill, only if he kept the display on from early evening to one in the morning at the latest. He wasn't _made_ of money, unlike his neighbor. Where did he even _work_ , anyway?

Dean had something Castiel had yet to consider – the internet. “Everyone’s all about synchronized light displays. You know the ones?” Sam slid him the laptop across his kitchen table, the browser playing a video of a house with fast-blinking lights all set to a specific rhythm, the song playing low through the speakers. “There’s a company that sells the program, and you can either program the song and settings you want manually or use a preprogrammed setup. It’ll play on a certain AM/FM station so people can listen to what you’re playing! Oh, and you have to put a sign in your yard with the station they give you on it.”

“Sounds like a bunch of fancy garbage.” But that didn't stop him from purchasing the residential package and installing the program onto his laptop that night. After class the following Monday and a trip to the hardware store, and with some timer tinkering from Sam, he had a generous setup on his front lawn, somewhat more colorful than Castiel’s, several of his trees blanketed in blinking rainbow lights, multiple strings of white stretching from the top of four six-foot poles to resemble trees placed at each corner of the yard. Tomorrow after a thorough lecture, he would figure out how to get the program to work.

Castiel upstaged him at midnight as he looked out his window, less than three hours later. His yard was _dancing_ in a syncopated rhythm, the beat not entirely apparent without the audio to go along. He had half the mind to run out his front door in his pajamas and rip up those _stupid_ reindeer and set everything ablaze, freezing cold and snow be damned. But no, that wasn't professional. He was smarter than that – he had a plan.

He grabbed the clock radio by his bed and walked to the window, fiddling with the dial until something other than late night talk shows sounded over the waves. A piano rendition of [_The Christmas Song_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oDTWGZhi4oY) played on a round and filled the quiet of his room, lulling him to a false sense of calm as he watched the display and the twinkling beyond the glass pane, a light snow falling outside.

He had a _plan._

He didn't speak to Castiel in the mornings before leaving for their respective jobs, giving each other curt nods at the mailbox or through car windows, never keeping eye contact for more than they had to. Every day, one of them would come home with a different decoration in the back of their car, only to see something bigger and better the following day on the other side of the road. The town was abuzz with the steady increase in holiday spirit from the two neighbors and their antics, unbeknownst to the feud going on between them.

The evening after Dean finished programming his first song and let it run, Castiel met him in the middle of the street, standing side by side, Dean with a portable radio in hand, the device playing [_Linus and Lucy_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x6zypc_LhnM) loud enough to be heard for just the two of them. What they had done was awe inspiring – both properties drenched in thousands of dollars of bulbs and plastic, yards upon yards of electrical wiring, more fixtures and man hours than they could count, a thickening blanket of snow covering it all.

It looked _awful_. The tackiest thing he had ever _seen_ , hands down.

Dean bit his knuckle to keep from laughing at the sight – Castiel beat him to it, arms pulled tight across his stomach, nearly doubling over in his reverie. Echoes of twin laughter echoed down the street, bouncing off white-blanketed houses, over the piano on the radio, all music to their ears. “It’s atrocious,” Castiel commented, wiping the tears from his eyes with the back of his hand. “We didn't put any thought into this at all.”

“Hey, it was fine before _you_ moved in.” He nudged Castiel’s shoulder, intentionally knocking him off balance. “It looks like Christmas exploded and took our houses with it.”

“Maybe next year, we can put more forethought into it.” Castiel took the radio from him and twisted the volume dial, tapping his fingers over the top. “Why did you pick this song?”

“’Cause _apparently_ we have the same taste in cheesy holiday specials.” He motioned to the red inflatable doghouse on both of their lawns, a black-and-white beagle sprawled out on the roof, dozing with a yellow bird on its stomach.

“So which one does that make you?” He caught Castiel’s curious stare, cocking an eyebrow. “I think you’re more like… Lucy.”

“Oh, _I’m_ Lucy?” Dean snorted. “You sayin’ I’m all brawn? I’ll have you know, I’m _just_ as smart as Linus.”

Castiel rolled his eyes. “Really? _Surely_ someone of your _intelligence_ could have constructed a better display.”

“Oh, _you’re_ one to talk!” Dean thumbed to the house behind him. “I think you lost your mojo when you bought that sad lookin’ Frosty by your window.”

“Touché.” Castiel chuckled, shaking his head. “This was an awful idea on both of our parts.” He handed back the radio and shoved his fingers in his coat pockets. Snow was gathering in his hair, white highlighting the perpetually mussed strands. “We should plan together, for next year.”

He would have been ashamed to admit how his heart skipped at those words. “You’d actually _want_ to?”

Castiel nodded. A wet snowflake landed on his nose. “Think of it as a way of apologizing for having us both spend thousands of dollars on useless decorations.”

“Next year,” he jeered, “you’re goin’ _down_.” Dean jabbed his forearm. “And we’ll find out who the _real_ winner is.”

“Right now, I think you’re in the lead for ‘Ugliest Christmas Display’ in the state.” He really shouldn't have thought that was funny, but he was having an awful time denying it otherwise. They really _were_ ugly. Castiel clapped a hand to his shoulder, absently brushing away the gathering snow. “What are you doing tonight?”

Amidst the flickering from both houses, he knew his face was probably the same shade of red as the star on his mailbox. “Why, you got somethin’ planned?”

“I’d like to show you just how alike you and Lucy are.” He tilted his head back towards the two-story behind him. “It’s on ABC in a few minutes. And I ordered pizza before I walked out here.”

“Dude, you are _so_ on.” Shutting off the radio, he tossed it into the snow next to his driveway, abandoning it to join Castiel in their walk to his neighbor’s home. “I’m _totally_ Linus.”

Castiel smiled, just a little. “Whatever you say, Dean.”

**Author's Note:**

> It really shouldn't have taken as long as it did to write this, but I like it nonetheless. My contribution to the endless stream of Christmas fics this year~. (I've never watched The Great Christmas Light Fight, by the way.) Also, my dad's old friend inspired my interest in dancing light displays, and every year when we go down to my hometown, we drive around and look at everyone being all festive. One display I saw was playing Frank Sinatra and Bing Crosby. ...Kinda festive? (I forgot to mention it, but the program's name is Light-O-Rama. It's actually not that expensive to buy.)
> 
> Also, everyone needs more A Charlie Brown Christmas in their lives. (The soundtrack is beautiful, if you haven't listened to every song ten times, you should.)
> 
> I'm on [tumblr](http://tragidean.tumblr.com) and [twitter](http://twitter.com/loversantiquity).


End file.
